


93% Stardust

by Arlzureinne_Karale



Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 08:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8660437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlzureinne_Karale/pseuds/Arlzureinne_Karale
Summary: Human were made of stardust, or so they said.





	

**Author's Note:**

> End Roll belong to Segawa. But honestly, Russell was made from everything that was precious.

That splitting image of his—a boy in his early teen, with eyes as bright as peridot stone and voice as dark as crow’s feather. Perhaps, the Informant was just mused to himself in spite of daydream, but the young boy heard it loud and clear, haunting him because he did not know.

“Human was made of stardust.”

Was that so?

The blond-haired young boy almost never came to school, maybe once every two weeks or even more because the teachers did not care about his—especially _his_ attendance anymore, while some others forgot about him. But he did know basic knowledge about biology and so.

He was one hundred percent sure human was made of something else.

It was not stardust; not him, nor that splitting image of his.

Not them; not the black-haired animal breeder, or the cheerful young chef, or the identical siblings of church wrapped with lively vines. Certainly not the ever so gentle doctor, or the too kind nurse, or even the powerful blonde lady. Nor the firearm-wielded peddler, or the white-haired lady, or the purple-winged young girl, or even the blond-haired illusion creator.

He was one hundred percent sure human was made of something else.

The Informant smiled, green eyes twinkled; was that so?

And suddenly, he was not sure.

 

* * *

 

Tabasa McNeil certainly was not made of stardust.

Or so Russell thought.

“Whoa—!” Tabasa stopped himself right before he toppled and potentially brought Russell fell together with him into the hard, dry ground of Dozing Forest. The older male blinked and tried to take a look at Russell from behind the high stack of cardboard boxes in his hands.

“Russell? Is that you?” certainly, the blue-eyed male could recognized the tuft of blond hair and white shirt, but he still asked anyway, in case the Russell-look-alike Informant tried to do something funny because the boy sure looked like he was keen to bring troubles anywhere.

Russell nodded, but then he thought maybe Tabasa could not see him because of the boxes.

“... yes,” a pause, Russell’s eyebrows furrowed when Tabasa swayed from side to side as if he was having difficulty to carry his boxes. For a second, Russell hesitated, but he still asked.

“Tabasa ... what are you doing?”

Tabasa let out a nervous laugh, “Yumi brought me along to Incarners’ Market because she need someone to carry her items. I seriously did not know Incarners sell so many _things_ ,” based from his tone, Russell was sure Tabasa just saw something he should not see.

The younger boy tilted his head, “... why you complied to her ... wish, then?”

Tabasa’s laugh was, perhaps, the most carefree melodies Russell ever heard, and the deeper ocean-eyed boy tried to remember if the zookeeper’s laugh also sounded like that. It was a pleasant thing, like the scent of rain and hope and happiness and one more tomorrow.

“It would be rude, she is older than me, after all. Besides, I don’t have anything important to do today, might as well help her, yeah?”  Tabasa grinned, his sky-colored eyes sparkled with so much light and gentleness, Russell could see the world shattered behind him.

“Oh, right, I have to deliver this to Yumi’s house. If you need me later, find me in my house. Or you can call my name, I’m confident with my hearing abillity,” Tabasa smiled kindly.

Tabasa McNeil certainly not made of stardust.

No, no, the black-haired young man was more than a mere dust.

Tabasa was made from sunshines and smiles—and every light the universe could offer.

 

* * *

 

Gardenia Reitman certainly was not made of stardust.

And so Russell thought.

“Russell! Good morning!” Gardenia waved cheerfully, eyes bright and her smile was even more bright. She skipped from her front door and skidded to stop in front of Russell, platinum hair bounced along her graceful movement, and Russell wondered if all girls walks like that.

Gardenia clasped her hands together, she bounced up and down, grinning excitedly, and Russell wondered how the adults could make Gardenia calmed down for a decent amount of time, “Listen, listen, listen! I made a new recipe, would you like to try it?”

An image of Chris flashed in his head, maybe he could bring Gardenia’s cooking for him?

After a short pause, Russell nodded, “... sure.”

Certainly, the pale boy did not expected Gardenia to pull a small box from behind like some kind of magic. She opened the box, and the smell of something sweet greeted Russell, along with some more unidentified but pleasant smell, something bittersweet and familiar.

“Cody gave me a new herb she found in the forest! Here, try it!”

Gardenia offered her medium-sized box, the smell of something sweet was getting stronger, and honestly, all Russell could remember was the smell of a certain giant birthday cake. The thought of cakes made his stomach twist, and all he could taste in his tongue was acid.

Russell peeked, almost sighed when something akin to cookies greeted his sight.

Timidly, he took a bite. The sugary treats melt in his mouth, it taste heavenly—like all of Gardenia’s cookings, Russell chewed slowly, tried to savoring every second of it, he could tasted the chocolates and sugar and gratitude and just one more second.

Russell nodded when Gardenia stared at him curiously, “It was ... delicious.”

The smile she gave was full of hapiness.

Gardenia Reitman certainly not made of stardust.

No, of course no, the platinum-haired young girl was worth more than particles.

Gardenia was made from sugar and sweets—and everything nice the world could muster.

 

* * *

 

Cody Toscarina certainly was not made of stardust.

Or so Russell thought.

“There you are, Russell!” Cody waved and ran to him, somehow was not out of breath when she finally came face to face with the younger male. Russell blinked, it was unusual for Cody to called him out of nowhere, since Russell was the one who always come to her shop.

Cody gestured to an empty basket in her hand, her entire visage filled with frustration, “I have to go to Dozing Forest, but Dogma wouldn’t let me go unless I brought someone along because those monster rumours, you’re not busy, right?” her tone almost sounded like a plead.

Slowly, Russell nodded. It was just Dozing Forest, after all, and it is been a while since Russell last saw Raymond and Yue in person, maybe he could pay a short visit to their shop.

Cody clapped her hands, her face brightened, “Great! Come on, then!” she ushered him to the too peaceful Nameless street. The walks did not take long, because suddenly, they are there.

While Cody picked some herbs and plants, Russell busied himself looking around. Blue eyes caught something interesting, a plant he never saw before; a small grass-like plant as big as his palm, it bear a single flower-like petals, the crown was white and almost looked like cloud.

“... Cody, what is this?”

The older female turned, peeked from behind Russell’s shorter form, “It’s dandelion, it only grow around here. You see, the cloud-like petals? It can fly along with wind if you blow it, here,” Cody crouched down and plucked the flower, softly blow it to the side.

The fascination in Russell’s face left his eyes childishly sparkling, his gaze moved along with the white petals dancing around the air when finally the wind blows them away from him.

“Dogma said dandelion means hapiness. I don’t know why, but perhaps it was because their petals can grow into another dandelion after the wind carried them to the perfect place, proving that there is still ray of hapiness although you think you were broken beyond repair.”

Cody Toscarina certainly not made of stardust.

No, no, the brown-haired girl was more than a small bond of atoms.

Cody was made from wild flowers and spices—and every hapiness the world could find.

 

* * *

 

Dogma Toscarina certainly was not made of stardust.

And so Russell thought.

“You’re seriously bad for my heart,” Dogma sighed, one hand clutched his chest as if his heart just leaped when the older priest turned to found Russell standing right in front of him, face impassive and gaze almost empty. Dogma honestly could not heard the younger boy coming, and Russell’s emotionless stare certainly did not make anything better.

“Dogma, what are you doing ... in Seaside?”

The oldest of Toscarina siblings huffed, taking his leather-covered bible for granted, “Working, obviously. There is a wedding around here. What are you doing here, Russell? And alone, no less, I thought Tabasa already taught you not to go somewhere far alone.”

Dogma’s words certainly did not merged with Russell’s train of thought, because the blond-haired boy’s attention was lost before Dogma’s question reached his ears, “... wedding?”

The priest nodded, “Yes, wedding. Apparently the ceremony is right by the sea.”

Russell’s voice was hopeful, “Can I come?”

Dogma sighed, his frown deepened. He could denied Russell’s wish and ordered the younger boy to go home, but what if Russell strayed from his path? At least Dogma could ensure Russell’s safety and walk him home before dark—that actually sounded fair enough.

“Fine. But don’t go too far, I’ll be on the altar, okay?”

The concept of wedding was something Russell never understood albeit he already saw it twice in the real world. Blue eyes stared at the altar full of flowers and ribbons with obvious fascination when Dogma stood between the groom and the bride, voice solid and flowed pleasantly, and when he stopped, Russell found himself had memorized the entire wedding vow.

“Then by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the young priest’s smile was genuine, as if the groom and the bride’s hapiness also his emotion to felt.

Dogma Toscarina certainly not made of stardust.

No, no, the brown-haired young man was more than a tiny existence.

Dogma was made from vows and faith—and every truth the world could gave.

 

* * *

 

Kantera certainly not made of stardust.

Or so Russell thought.

“Ah, welcome,” Kantera was obviously on the verge of sleeping when Russell came; daydream laced his voice, twilight was the colour of his eyes. The Draken smiled when he caught a good look at Russell, pleased when he did not see any wound on Russell’s unusual pale skin.

“Doctor ... let us chat,” Russell’s eyes—the same shades of deeper part of ocean filled with a tiny bit of curiosity. Kantera tilted his head, but nonetheless, his smile remained, always.

“Let’s.”

It was unusual for Russell to start their conversation, and Kantera was actually very suprised, he could not help but blinked a couple of times when the blond-haired boy asked seemingly out of nowhere, “Doctor, why do you ... like stroll so much? Isn’t it ... exhausting sometimes?”

A soft chuckle escaped Kantera’s mouth, it sounded pleasant—Russell could not help but compared it to Dogma’s voice and Tabasa’s laugh, “You see, Young One, sometimes a reason is not needed for liking something. Besides, you can found many things when you go for a stroll,” Kantera hummed, nodded to himself along with his own explanation.

“... like what?” Russell wondered how someone could liking something without a reason.

Kantera hide his mouth with his sleeves, red eyes twinkled almost like a child’s. His voice was anything but whisper, as if he was trying to told Russell a secret nobody should know but themselves, “A whole new world hidden from anyone’s eyes, maybe?”

The boy let out a small _ah_ ’s; Dragon’s Peak technically was it.

“And Russell, if you stop and listen; you could hear secret told between day and twilight. How the world is still beautiful, after all,” Russell did not understand, but he nodded anyway.

The older Draken smiled and patted Russell’s head with so much kindness.

Kantera certainly not made of stardust.

No, of course no, the platinum-haired young man was more than a dirt.

Kantera was made of daydreams and twilight—and every virtues the world could have.

 

* * *

 

 Mireille Nif certainly not made of stardust.

And so Russell thought.

“Russell! Are you alright!?” Mireille rushed, half running to Russell while she pulled her skirt with two hands. The pink-haired young lady kneeled to help Russell sat, her eyes filled with worry since she was the only one who saw Russell tripped and fell face first to the ground.

The said boy nodded, but then he flinched when blood trickled down his forehead.

“Let’s bring you to Dr. Kantera’s place! Can you stand?” gently, Mireille grabbed Russell’s hand to steadied him andprevented the younger boy to touch his wound, Russell wobbled for a second before finally he could held his ground—although he still felt everything shook.

“... but, isn’t around this time Doctor usually goes to Incarners’ Market?” Russell flinched again when he felt the blood dripped down his cheek, he did not even knew he fell _that_ hard.

Mireille’s eyes widened, “Oh no, you’re right!” Russell almost could see thought running around in the older lady’s head, spinning so quickly the younger boy could not help but wondered if all of adults’ thought was like that—was Raymond included, though?

“Ah! Master have a first aid kit, he will lend it for you, I’m sure,” Mireille nodded quickly and ushered Russell to the Mayor’s residence. It did not take a long time for them to reached Saxon’s house, and all the way, Mireille always gave Russell unapproving glance everytime Russell’s hand were anywhere near his wound.

“Wait here,” Mireille sat Russell in the dining room and disappeared. Russell quickly wiped the blood with his sleeve, brows furrowed when shades of red blotted his usually pristine shirt.

Mireille came back minute later with a white medium-sized box in hand, Russell could smell the familiar scent of antiseptic even when the box closed, “It’s okay, Mireille ... I could treat myself,” but honestly, Russell would probably just stick a plaster and be done with it.

The older lady shook her head, smiling gently, “No, no, I want to help you, okay?”

Mireille Nif certainly not made of stardust.

No, of course no, the pink-haired young lady was more than a stain.

Mireille was made of gentleness and medicine—and every chemical the world could made.

 

* * *

 

Yumi Bombers certainly was not made of stardust.

Or so Russell thought.

“Hey, Kid. Whatcha doing out?” Yumi waved, one eyebrow raised when she caught Russell’s form almost merged with the evening’s darkness and vague light. Blue eyes glanced to the roof of the house Russell’s previously existed; sky blue roof, the Informant’s house.

The older lady tilted her head, “Ya got business with that Informant?”

Russell nodded, and Yumi shrugged.

“Huh, I seriously wonder why you didn’t have any identity crisis when you see him, you two are so identical, Cody said it was scary,” the blonde sheriff mused, softly chuckled to herself.

Russell tilted his head, thoughts flashed around his eyes like ray of light, “... I just ... felt like standing in front of mirror,” he mumbled, and Yumi stopped—completely did not think Russell would answered seriously. But the older sheriff only grinned anyway, and patted his head.

“That’s great an’ all. But if I saw myself in a mirror and it starts talking or somethin’ I honestly would be creeped out,” Yumi shook her head, blue eyes closed when she tried to imagine how it would be if one day, out of nowhere, her reflection started talking to her.

“But if it means no harm ... wouldn’t it be a good thing?”

Yumi opened her eyes, she let out a long, hummed sound from her throat when Russell stared at her with such wonder Yumi did not know he was capable of—since the boy was usually so _blank_ , Dogma could not help but questioned the boy’s health, “Why would ya think so?”

Russell blinked, as if he also did not know the reason, “... You could ... befriend them ...?”

Yumi burst of laughing when she heard Russell’s answer, she have to knelt down to alleviate the pain in her stomach because of her laughing fit. The older lady patted Russell’s head, messed his blond hair while she giggled joyfully, “Kid, you don’t have to befriend a reflection; you have me and the entire town. Sorry for laughing at you, though.”

Yumi Bombers certainly not made of stardust.

No, no, the blond-haired young lady was more than dust.

Yumi was made of power and confidence—and every promise the world could do.

 

* * *

 

The Informant certainly was not made of stardust.

Or was he?

“Hello, Russell, here to hear some valuable info about your dream?” the Informant cheerful voice greeted him first thing when Russell opened the door. Green eyes— _the symbol of jeaolusy_ —sparkled with a hint of curiosity, and if Russell squinted hard enough, he could see a shade of darkening twilight and first star to the east beyond those almost sly gaze.

Russell closed the door with a soft _thud_ , he did not walk closer, “I’ll listen.”

The Informant’s smile widened, it was almost a full-blown smirk, and Russell wondered if his own face also capable of that expression—since he could not even imitated Tabasa’s smile and Gardenia’s laugh, Cody’s kind expression and Dogma’s solid voice, Kantera’s gentle gaze and Mireille’s soft stare, Yumi’s unwavered confidence and the Informant’s ability to stood his ground while he knew everything and anything in between.

“What do you want to know?”

And for a second, Russell could see the world shattered around him—around them.

“... what are you made of?”

The Informant paused. It was unusual to see him at lost of words, since one way or another, he could spun setences almost as if he breathe them. Peridot eyes flashed—it was not green, it was blue, and not the same blue of what made Russell’s eyes; not the deeper part of ocean.

“The same thing of what made you, of course.”

Russell blankly stared, “No, you don’t.”

That splitting image of his shrugged, peridot eyes twinkled with unidentified emotion Russell did not knew he was capable of—it was the same curiosity. The Informant swayed from side to side, humming to himself while he winded his thought to encountered Russell’s declaration.

“If you say so. Then, what do you think I made of, Russell?”

The said boy blinked, but honestly, Russell did expected the Informant turned his question against him—it was just about time. After all, Russell did think like him, their thoughts interwined before flashed, like a whole petals of dandelion before the wind scattered them.

“... maybe .... ninety-three percent of stardust.”

It was the Informant’s turn to blinked, he did not expected Russell’s answer. He remembered their conversation vividly, a short chat about a thing and everything after the Informant finished the book in his hand—about philosophy and fantasy, about existence of humanity that dangled with pretty words. It was a wonder why there is a book like that in a fourteen years old boy’s dream. No wonder that Dreamsend Reseacher find Russell fascinating.

“And the seven percent?”

Russell paused, his eyes—the same shades of bluish line between twilight and rapidly advancing night, lowered. And for a while, there was silence, a light, airy quiet atmosphere. Only the pulsating sky of delusion and whispering song of what Russell remembered as wind.

“Curiosity.”

Shades of peridot eyes stared, and it was the most beautiful color the universe could muster.

“What about yourself, then? What are you made of, Russell?”

Russell smiled, and it was the most heartbreaking expression the universe could offer.

“Guilt and regret.”

**.**

**Author's Note:**

> Good day, thank you for reading!
> 
> The name's Azu! Most probably will settle for a while here, so yup!
> 
> This is mainly for character study, it meant to be drabbles but suddenly it was almost exceeding 10 pages; but still, please protect Russell, please protect this cinnammon roll, he needs more love. Also, big thanks to Freyyyy for proofreading it, and is currently screaming over the bonus room.
> 
> Last, sorry for any grammar mistakes, thank you for reading~!  
> -Azureinne K.


End file.
